The Cabenvak Triumfemate
by Modest Jonathan
Summary: New York is beset by a new doom, a villain by the name of Sherman, and SVU faces one of its hardest trials yet. With potential to be lengthy and epic, join Olivia, Casey and Alex as their trust, hope, and strength are tested like never before.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The morning sun flitted through the broad paneled windows of the precinct, rippling across the mounds of paperwork and setting dust aloft like a sharp wind that stirs spray off ocean waves. The aroma of coffee wafted through the air which seemed crisp due to the sunlight although it was as dry as always. On Olivia Benson's desk sat a neatly arranged distribution of files and paperwork. Her desk was rarely found in such an orderly state, and such a thing could only have one implication, an implication that today was all the more certain because Olivia had not left the office the night before. Sitting atop the proud stack of papers in front of her was a single photograph. A grungy man's face stared out of it with a foul expression, and under it read the name _Peter Iscanyth._ This was the rewarding pinnacle of Olivia's night of research, and she was now enjoying a brief respite as she waited for her fellow detectives to arrive.

The Sherman Case, as they were calling it, had remained an elusive disaster for the last few weeks. It seemed almost unsolvable and so interest had waned. Besides, SVU was never short of plenty of other pressing cases, cases that John, Fin, Elliot and even Olivia gladly took up almost in spite of the difficulty of the Sherman Case. But in the end Olivia was pushed to one of 'those nights.' It was nights like the previous that had sustained her through the rigors of training when she had to work a side job as well, and even before then in school, when she was also over-burdened with work. Then it had just been grunt work, just a blunt force applied to a malleable will, cattle driven through the furrows. But now it was different, now her work _mattered_, and likewise now she felt even more awake then if she had slept.

Olivia could almost feel the eager anticipation and energy welling up, and seemed to sense a sort of ripeness about things that let her know that the time was coming, akin to the portending calm that precedes a heavy storm. Then, at a point, she just sat down at her desk, and starting going. Pouring back over every lead and every ounce of evidence, sorting through heaps of mostly useless information and twisting her mind in every way possible until she found one catch, one hint, one contradiction, and almost infallibly she turning up victorious the next morning. That was how her last night had been, and finally she had come across a little inconsistency that sparked her attention and then right there at six in the morning everything fell into place.

The door finally opened and in walked John Munch, he usually was one of the earliest to arrive. He strode in cloaked in one of his thin and worn black jackets, his keen eyes shining with the morning. He soon noticed Olivia sitting there patiently contented and quickly made the connection between the tidy stack of papers on her desk and her smug expression.

"Oh, well good morning Ms. Olivia Benson, star detective of New York City," Munch said in his gently sarcastic manner, bowing lowly. "I take this to mean you've had a break through."

"More than that!" Olivia replied affirmatively, unable to contain her satisfaction with herself. She really didn't care about honors, she just got obsessed with her work sometimes, and liked figuring things out. "Wait till you see what I figured out!"

Munch decided to indulge Olivia, knowing that she would rather not wait for everyone else to arrive. However, Olivia's explanation of her work was so lengthy and so theatrical (she hadn't sleep in over a day) that Fin and Cragen both arrived while she was still talking, and gathered into the growing crowd which now also included a few rookies, some of whom were only there to nourish crushes they had on Olivia.

It was called the Sherman Case in crude honor of the Union Civil War General who forged a path of destruction from from northern Georgia to the sea. Munch quickly coined the villain with this name after a series of violent murders obscured by fire began on Kingsbridge Avenue and traveled in a one-way death track towards the Upper Bay. Oddly enough, to the chagrin of the detectives, the fires had proceeded down to Sherman Avenue after the naming of the case, doubtlessly not a coincidence. These murders, of which there were two so far, seemed to follow in wicked mockery of the detective's investigation, and stood out in stark irrelevance to the first four. This had raised the priority of the case greatly, for it seemed that SVU had somehow been compromised. Olivia was now at the point of explaining how she had come upon _Peter Iscanyth, _and was brandishing his picture around gleefully, almost too satisfied with herself.

"This guy," Olivia said, holding up the foul face, "hardly even made it into the list of suspects. He turned up outside the crime scene of the second fire on Kingsbridge and insisted that he had seen something. He was brought in with Munch and Fin and rambled on about some pizza man, and then some taxi driver, and then some other figure, almost all of it was incomprehensible, except one thing! It wasn't his words but his actions that gave him away, and he wasn't here to give _us_ any clues. I was reviewing the tapes of his interview- okay I really didn't like the way his face looked so I thought it was worth a shot- and I noticed that he kept his right hand tightly closed the entire time." Olivia hopped off the chair that she had stood on, and waltzed over to Fin's desk, and, facing away from the interrogation room, reached a hand under its edge. She then displayed to them all a small black chip with a little wire poking out of it.

"You're kidding me," said Fin, thunderstruck. "Is that what I think it is?"

"You bet!" Olivia said, "this little sneak has been broadcasting SVU live out of here for the past three weeks. It's a prototype model with a custom Lithium ion battery. It could have remained operable for another year had I not deactivated it."

"Jesus, Liv, that's fantastic!" said Cragen, "but what makes you so sure it was Iscanyth?"

"Other than the interview video and his fingerprints on this guy, woman's intuition, I guess."

"All right, fine, fine!" Cragen responded, throwing his hands up, but Munch quickly interjected.

"But if you've deactivated the transmitter Iscanyth is going to know we're on to him!"

"Maybe, maybe not," Olivia replied. "I only discovered it a few hours ago and simply finding it doesn't necessarily mean we know _he_ put it there, besides, I doubt 'ol Pet's going to be too concerned about it at seven thirty in the morning."

"Fair enough," Cragen said, "go pick his ass up while speed is still on our side! Olivia, you go, and only one of you two," he said, gesturing at Fin and Munch. "Also, where the hell is Elliot?"

No one knew the whereabouts of Elliot, and they couldn't what around wandering. Olivia hurried out with Fin, Munch volunteering to stay behind.

"That was some good work back there Liv," Fin said, "I'm impressed and I think you impressed the Cap too."

"Thanks Fin," Olivia said, blushing. Now that the glory of her divulgence was past she would rather reside out of the limelight, and reluctantly accepted additional praise. The pair continued on outside and into Fin's squad car, which raced away and down the streets of New York, bent on the home of Peter Iscanyth.

SVU SVU SVU

Fin and Olivia pulled up outside Iscanyth'sapartment and leapt out of the squad car. It was 8:15 and Olivia had pulled the plug on his little spy a little before six. There was very little chance he had already learned about that and even then very little he could do about it. Fin led the way up the front stairs. Peter's apartment was on the west wing of the building on the sixth floor. It was a rundown neighborhood and a dilapidated building without any security so the two detectives simply strolled inside deliberately and took to the stairs, finding no elevator to exist. They plodded up flight after flight, past refuse and rotten trash. They even encountered a homeless man sleeping on the third landing, who Fin shooed away. He usually had some tolerance for the homeless and loathed the rent-a-cops who seemed to get high from kicking them out of 'public' places, but this situation was a little different.

They finally reached the fifth landing and threaded down the hallway, coming at last to 509.

"All right this is it," Olivia said.

"Hell yeah," Fin replied, short of breath, "it's about time we caught this Sherman fuck, you ready?"

"Always," Olivia raised her foot and smashed the door clean through near the lock. She led them in gun raised and shouted, "police! Peter Iscanyth come out with your hands up!" but immediately they could tell something was wrong. The apartment was dirty, yes, but it seemed almost trashed, and had a stale reek about it. Heedless, however, Olivia and Fin flanked the inner partition and proceeded to scour the rooms. Finding nothing but filth and stench they moved at last to the bedroom door, which was slightly ajar. Olivia kicked open and gasped, becoming stock still.

In front of her was Elliot Stabler, bent over with his wrists tied behind him to a bedpost. His shirt was in tatters and he was covered in blood. His head hung limply down across his chest and he made no indication that he was aware of their presence.

"Oh my god," Olivia murmured, terrified.

"What the hell?" Fin said rushing forward and hardly even checking the rest of the room for Iscanyth. "Liv! he yelled, "call a bus, he's still alive, but barely by the looks of it!"

Olivia, however, continued to stand there, a few feet inside the room. She was motionless and her gaze had been drawn to the right, where, upon a dark wall there was scrawled in blood this message:

_If you don't want the rest of your partners to turn up like this,_

_then back off Olivia Benson, back off…..._

_-Sherman_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Olivia sat near the bed Elliot was propped up in, her head in her hands. She was terribly upset over what had happened, and the menacingly message hadn't ceased to replay itself over in her mind. _Olivia Benson_ it had read. It was _her_ fault, she had brought this upon her partner, her friend, for what reason and how she could not imagine. She had never had any romantic feelings for Elliot, even as a friendship their relationship was a little strange at times, but when she had seen him there broken and beaten she was moved nearly to tears, almost surprising herself even. And since then many tears had fallen on his behalf.

_Bzzz_ went Olivia's phone.

"Hello, what, what is it?" she managed, suppressing the tremor in her voice.

"Liv, you better get back here quick, we've found something," said Fin through the other line.

"A-All right, I'll be there soon," Olivia clicked the phone shut and took another look at Elliot. She felt miserable. She had been most excited to see his expression, her partner's expression, when she cracked the case, and now it turned out she hadn't cracked anything at all. She had no idea how this could have happened, the small gap of time between when she deactivated the transmitter and when she had reached Iscanyth's house just wasn't long enough for him, or anyone really, to seize Elliot and trap him there. Besides, the note read _Olivia Benson_. It was more than just a criminal escaping arrest, it seemed. More vicious, at least. Not to mention she hadn't given enough thought to the fact that a single person would probably not have been able to disable Elliot _and_ haul him into this apartment in such a short amount of time. But they only had one suspect.

Olivia stood up wearily. It was just past noon, she still hadn't slept since two nights ago, and she hadn't had anything to eat since the middle of last night. Yet these physical ailments didn't even approach the emotional fatigue she was feeling, not to mention the feeling of failure. She gripped the handle of her purse and lifted it to her shoulder, taking one last look at Elliot. The doctors had said he would be all right. He was a tough one, and despite the severity of his initial appearance he wasn't injured too badly. Just a succession of minor cuts and bruises. Bashed up and then rendered unconscious by one hard blow to the head.

Olivia sighed and said quietly, "bye El, I'm sorry. I'll be back to see you soon."

She turned to go and walked out, pushing worry and gloom from her mind and setting her focus back on the case that had now become more of a personal vendetta. She left the hospital in a flurry, too preoccupied to notice the shaded pair of eyes that watched her egress.

SVU SVU SVU

"Fin, Munch," Olivia said, reentering the precinct. "What do we have?"

"First, _you_ have lunch," said Munch, handing Olivia a paper China takeout box with a pair of chopsticks protruding from the top.

"And second, you have a look at this," said Fin, holding up yet another microscopic electronic device.

"Ehh, whua?" Olivia said, through a long-awaited mouthful of noodles.

"That's what I said. Found this little bugger stuck next to the door over there on the filing cabinet. Not only audio, but a full live video stream of the sex crime detectives and their daily going ons. In color too."

"That's, a camera?" Olivia said in exasperation, covering her mouth.

"Yes, not the same make as the audio transmitter you found though," said Munch. "This one is even higher quality. I've got the techs downstairs trying to trace it, but so far no luck. It's some really high end gear."

"God…" Olivia moaned, setting down the noodle box. "Why didn't I think to check for other wires?" she asked herself, settling back into a gloomy depression. "No wonder he knew I was on to him…"

"Liv," said Fin in consolation, although he knew there was little potential in successfully assuaging her grief, "there was no way you could have known, we would all have done the same thing. Elliot's going to be fine, at any rate, and now we've got another link to our perp."

"I guess so," Olivia said, still despondent, "how did you find this? she asked, taking the video receiver and eying it closely.

"Munch's idea," said Fin, "decided to search the rest of the place."

"Yeah, and just for the sake of caution I had computer crimes run it through with a radio scanner just to be sure we didn't miss any others." Munch turned up his hands to indicate they had found no others.

"Well, I suppose this is helpful," said Olivia, "but we're going to need more than a couple spy gadgets to catch this guy, what else do we have?"

"I've been running background on Iscanyth," said Munch, "he's a pretty complex fellow, and by that I mean it's hard to find anything on him. That act he put on in the interview room was just that, an act. Look here, immigrated to the United States from the Ukraine in 2007, and changed his name from Igor Morozova to Peter Iscanyth. He's Russian originally, but I can find absolutely nothing about him before he came here. I've had our international friends search him out too, and they've found nothing as well. It's still early though."

"He's a night watchman, right?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah, he checks in night deliveries at Monadnock Metallurgy," said Munch. "It's a pretty dull job by the looks of it, maybe 20 trucks come in a week, which isn't much for an industrial metal company. It's more of a security job, they've had some break-ins lately."

"A pretty good cover if he doesn't want us finding anything out about him, to say the least," Fin added. "The company hardly even knows anything about him. They already faxed over his files, nothing but the basics, however. Social, criminal history- none, work history, address- same as the one you hit this morning. Nothing to go off of, it's as limited as possible. Nothing more than a home phone number."

"Yeah, and that's why you two are heading back over to his apartment to see if you can dig anything else up there," said Cragen, walking up. "Munch, continue working on his background in the Ukraine."

"Right," said Fin, "and we're taking a forensic team with us."

SVU SVU SVU

Olivia and Fin reentered Morozova's apartment, flanked by five other agents over-laden with gear. They walked through the first room, which was littered with various things in a disorderly manner. The furniture lay spread in no distinct pattern; papers and odd objects sat around haphazardly. It was hard for Olivia to tell if this was the usual state of the apartment or if it had been upturned very recently.

The neighbors said they saw very little of Mr. Iscanyth. He seldom came and went, or at least they didn't see him when he made his visits, and in any case they were unsociable out of prudence and knew nothing about him. It was a 'keep to yourself' neighborhood. The landlord said Peter had moved in a few years before, just after he had arrived in the country apparently. He made no fuss and spoke little, he paid his bills on time and disturbed no one. As far as the landlord cared, well, he didn't care. He got paid, and that was the end of it.

"Liv, this place looks to me like a false-house, like he was just putting up here to have an address and otherwise had no use of the place. Look, fridge is empty, kitchen only has a couple cans of food. Nothing else, no shampoo or soap in the bathroom. This is a ghost house, Iscanyth hasn't lived here for god knows how long, if ever."

Olivia nodded in agreement, shaking a duffle bag that was swathed in dust and finding nothing inside. "Why need a fake house though?"

"Gives him an address- for mail, for a job."

"Sure, but what's he hiding? Fin, those wires left at SVU weren't cheap. The one I found was state of the art and Munch said the camera was even more advanced. I keep feeling that this is way beyond a petty criminal.

Fin tossed down the can of vegetable soup he was holding and kicked the refrigerator door shut. He leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms in thought. "Why the fires then? And the murders- half were women and they were all raped beforehand. We could find nothing substantial linking them together…" he trailed off uncertainly.

Olivia stepped on a pile of folded cardboard boxes and walked back out into the living room, stepping aside in deference to one of the forensic agents who paused to inform Olivia that they had found nothing useful. "Just a really dirty apartment. Hardly a trace of inhabitation."

Olivia beckoned Fin to follow her and they returned to the dreadful room where they had found Elliot a few hours before. The writing was still visible on the wall although now faded and smudged. Olivia shuddered as she walked in, the grim memory of Elliot's haggard form still seared into her mind.

"Anything in here?" she asked to one of the other operatives, who lowered the radio scanner he was waving about to answer her.

"Nothing ma'am, aside from the blood nothing at all. Just like the other rooms." Olivia nodded her understanding.

"Liv this is a dead end," Fin said behind her. "I say we get back to the station and pour back through the victims to try to find out what this Morozova figure is after. Maybe Munch will have found something too." Olivia agreed and the two filed out, feeling thoroughly disgruntled. Weariness was beginning to beset Olivia as she walked out, her head drooping.

SVU SVU SVU

They returned to the precinct a little later. Munch and found nothing, and was still absorbed deeply in his computer screen, his face contorted in thought. He waved a greeting to them, judging by their solemnity that they had found nothing helpful either. Cragen informed them that Elliot was still asleep, and then returned to his office. Olivia sat back down at her desk and began to sift through the victim files again but her head continued to sag and soon she was overtaken by sleep. Her head fell down upon the papers and soon she was sleeping peacefully.

a/n review please!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The other detectives continued to work feverishly, but the difficulty of the case was beginning to irk them. Fin especially was becoming irritated, resentful that Olivia was allowed to sleep at such a time with no objection from their captain. But Cragen had judged that Olivia's fatigue justified her nap, besides, it was only due to her efforts that they had made any progress at all. Munch was still typing and searching through archived files, occasionally sending a message back to the CIA concerning Morozova, his brow furrowed. Cragen had just spoken with Fin and sent him to speak with the superintendent of Monadnock Metallurgy to try to learn anything else about Peter Iscanyth, their nighttime guard. Fin had left begrudgingly, muttering something about how Olivia could have gone if she had been awake. His exit was soon followed by the entranced of a heavily bandaged fellow, who turned out to be Elliot Stabler returning from the hospital.

Elliot walked up and Munch was alerted from his weary work. His rising gaze meet the figure of Elliot, who was moving jarringly like a child in a cumbersome Halloween costume, but if it was because of the pain of his injuries or the amount of bandages that were now protruding from his clothing Munch could not say.

"Welcome back Superman, I suppose you would have to nearly die before you take a day off," Munch said.

"Hell, that's right," Elliot replied in a voice laden with the discomfort of exercising his vocal cords. Olivia stirred at the sound of his voice.

"Bad news, though, the leads have run dry. Cragen just sent Fin out to talk to Peter's boss, an unlikely lead, and we've got so few other leads that I could almost take a nap as well." John glanced over at the gently snoring Olivia.

"So it seems," Elliot said gruffly, "but you forget that we have a live victim at last, one with a testimony that may prove to be helpful."

"Oh, good! Munch said, happy to hear something new, "I'm listening."

"We should rather move into Cragen's office, he'll want to hear this as well." The two stood up and Olivia finally snapped back to consciousness.

"Wha- O, Oh! Elliot! You- You're back!" she exclaimed groggily. She seemed very anxious, as anyone who as fallen asleep accidentally in a public place is upon waking up and being completely unaware of their surroundings.

"Yes, yes I am," Elliot said, waving his fattened arms around. "I was just going to tell Cragen about my night, you care to join us?"

"Er, yes, of course." Olivia hurriedly composed herself and combed her hair back with her hand, and then got up and joined them.

SVU SVU SVU

Fin punched the gas and cursed at another driver under his breath as he sped around him.

"Damn prick," he muttered, glancing back to see a white collared businessman chirping on a cell phone. Fin turned off the interstate and drove down into the west industrial sector. He had never heard of Monadnock Metallurgy and didn't expect to find anything useful there. The job seemed to be a cover at best, or perhaps a source of some small cash. But Munch had suggested that perhaps Morozova was using his position as delivery manager to smuggle in more than metal ore and machine parts. Of course it was then _he_ who was picked to go and find out, not Munch, even though it had been Munch's idea.

Fin pulled up to the entrance gate and flicked out his police badge, not saying a word. The day guard took a look and opened the gate, saying "um, all right." Fin parked in a visitor's space near the offices. Monadnock Metallurgy was an expansive facility. The western side of the complex was filled with reserves of metal ore. The remainder of the plant was dedicated to large, smoking billowing buildings, introduced by a small gray building which housed the administrative offices. Fin entered this building and approached the desk of the secretary, a supercilious looking women with tidy but ugly hair and a pair of gaudy glasses set upon her nose. Fin had the impression that they were more for show than for function.

"NYPD," he said in menacing introduction, "I'm here to speak with your supervisor."

"What for, may I ask?"

"You may not ask," Fin said brusquely.

The secretary curled her lip but rang in Fin's request and then motioned for him to enter the door to his right. Fin walked in.

"Henry Brandston," a well dressed man announced, extending his hand in greeting and smiling a little too much. Fin shook it out of courtesy alone. "What may I do for you… um…"

"Tutuola. Odafin Tutuola," Fin responded, not one to be impressed by Henry Brandston's polite greeting or trim appearance. "I've got a few questions for you."

"Yes, please, sit down, I hope nothing is the matter."

Fin eyed him, wondering why he had said this so quickly. "I'm here about your night watchman. Peter Iscanyth, I believe, is the name you know him by?"  
>"Um, yes. Yes, good Peter." Brandston's lips pursed. "What about him, exactly?"<p>

"Well, to start with, why don't you tell me everything you know about him?"

The superintendent hesitated and then, as if struck by a thought jumped up. "Well here then, we will take a look at his files!" He moved to a nearby filing cabinet but was halted by a wave a Fin's arm.

"No, we've already had a look at those, we had them faxed over. They're empty enough. I want to know your impression of him, anything you know about it him that you think the police would find relevant."

"Relevant, to what, might I ask?" the superintendent ventured.

"To a very important case."

"Uh, um, yes, well, let's see." Brandston scratched his head, pondering. "Well, Peter's worked here for a while, couple years I think. I don't see much of him, I'm here during the day, you know? He doesn't come in until nine or so. He's been a fine worker, never had any issues with him, no problems or anything. He's a pretty coarse fellow, a little haggard and tired looking sometimes but always seems to hold the watch down all right."

"What about the deliveries he checks in?"

"Oh, those?" Brandston's eyes dilated imperceptibly. "Those are all just standard shipments, mostly high volume. We run high volume at night, when the lot is cleared up more."

"You've not had any trouble with those?"

"What, trouble? Of course not, the supplies have been meticulously accounted for." At this point Fin was convinced the man was withholding something from him, although what he could not be sure.

"And what about the break-ins? We heard you've had some trouble with that."

"Oh mostly just teenagers and rabble-rousers. They don't cause any real harm, just seem to enjoy the thrill of breaking into a factory yard. But we've had less of that since Iscanyth started."

Fin decided it was time to end the interview. If they were going to learn anything here it was not going to be by asking directly. He stood to go.

"Well thank you for your time Mr. Brandston, I believe you've offered me all the help you can." Fin turned to go.

The superintendent looked nervously after Fin and pulled his shirt collar from his neck, which was now sweating, and sank back into his chair. Once Fin closed the door he nervously reached for the phone on his desk and dialed a number.

SVU SVU SVU

Elliot began speaking once they were all assembled in Cragen's office. He had returned to his home after work the previous night around six, and left soon again to go to the gym and then stopped by the grocery store on his way back him. He thought that it was here that someone began following him, although he wasn't sure.

"I got home around nine and everything seemed normal, I went to sleep pretty soon after that. It was around three in the morning, I think, when I was awoken again by a crash. I sat up but was knocked backwards immediately by someone. I tried to get up and fight back but was forced down and knocked unconscious. I couldn't see anything or anyone, but I'm sure that I was being assaulted by more than one person. Anyways, I remember sliding in and out of consciousness momentarily after that, and sometime later overhearing a conversation. I was in a car or van or something, thrown in the back, and could hear two in the front muttering something about a girl and one of them told the other to 'be more careful from now on, no one else can catch on.' That's all I heard except for one other thing. The other said 'the last delivery will be coming this week, so we won't have to wait that much longer.' I don't know what any of them means, but that's what I heard. I think I fell back into unconsciousness, I don't remember anything else until waking up in the hospital."

"Well, that's somewhat helpful," said Cragen with a look of consternation. "We know Morozova has at least one accomplice."

"And he's after something else, he's not just a maniac serial killer, otherwise Elliot would be dead too," added Olivia. "In fact, I don't know why Elliot isn't dead." She looked at her partner with an expression of scared relief. Elliot just grinned back at her and said it must have been his good looks that saved him.

"But what about that 'delivery,' Munch said, undistracted. "Do you remember anything else about that?"

"No, nothing, just the words I said already," Elliot replied. "They were waiting on some sort of shipment and it was coming this week."

Munch murmured to himself thoughtfully. "It could have to do with Monadnock, where Fin is. Morozova was a night watchman there who checked in delivery trucks. He should be there now, I'll give him a call and tell him what you overheard, Elliot." Munch turned and pulled out his cell phone, dialing Fin's number.

Now it was time for Cragen's father and captain instinct to kick in. "Elliot, if it wasn't for the relevance of your presence I would have already sent you packing, at the most you should only be here to talk to Huang, but really I think you should still be resting at home, or," Cragen added after thinking for a moment, "back at the hospital." Elliot just shifted his eyes, knowing that depending on the result of Munch's phone call his presence might be relevant again.

Munch clicked his phone shut. "No answer," he said simply.

"Elliot," Cragen repeated imploringly. Elliot turned to go. "And Olivia, you might want to head home as well, I'm sure you could use some rest too." Olivia looked at him regretfully but John insisted that he and Fin would be able to deal with anything else that came up today and the best thing was probably to get some rest and return to work fresh in the morning. Olivia and Elliot walked out.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Olivia whispered.

"If so, we better not talk about it yet," Elliot whispered back secretly. Olivia gathered her things and the two conspirators headed down to the car garage, getting in Elliot's car and driving out.

"Do you even know where Monadnock Metallurgy is?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah, I think I do well enough. It's across the river, I remember seeing the sign for it when I was over there one other time."

"All right, good. Are you" Olivia hesitated, "all right?"

"What all this?" Elliot replied, gesturing to his bandages, "just an over-cautionary doctor that's all. It would take more than this to finish me off." He was probably right, but Olivia wasn't sure how much of this was just his boastful man-pride talking. But she left the issue where it was; she still felt grievous over his assault because she felt responsible for it. At length they reached the metalworks factory, but first drove past it cautiously. It was already near dusk and most of the workers had left.

"What do you think?" Olivia asked.

"I say we stake out for a moment over there," Elliot answered looking off to a nearby road that ran up a hill through a neighborhood. They pulled up the street and parked, whipping out a pair of binoculars to see what can be learned from the closing of the factory. Olivia took the first look and was scanning back at forth for a moment before she gasped.

"E-Elliot!" she stammered, "here, look! By the far north side, that large warehouse on the left." She handed him the binoculars and he gripped them with his swaddled hands.

"What the!" he exclaimed, quickly spotting what Olivia had seen.

About a mile away from them, in the very warehouse Olivia had mentioned, a white NYPD squad car was being pushed by three men. It was doubtlessly Fin's car, but he was no where to be seen.

"Call Fin," Elliot said. Olivia did, still no answer. She then called Munch.

"John," she said quickly. "Have you reached Fin yet? No? Well, we may have a problem. Elliot and I are watching Fin's squad car being moved into one of Monadnock's- er, yes, Munch! Don't worry about what the hell we're doing here, we've got to worry about Fin first! His squad car's being hauled into one of Monadnock's warehouses right now! All right, all right, bye."

Olivia shut the phone. "They're coming," she said.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the great wait (I know I have a dearth of readers and this note is gratuitous, but I like to flatter myself that people actually read my stories). I have been withheld from writing by a certain Elizabeth Maria Swan (cough cough), to whom many treasures are hidden in the below chapter. And without further ado I give to all your eagerly swooning eyeballs... **Chapter 4:**

The last rays of twilight were slipping away through the cracks between buildings that littered the New York skyline, and dusty clouds began to encroach upon the city. A premonitory breeze had rustled up, and it stirred the loose bits of garbage that lay upon the streets near Monadnock Metallurgy.

Elliot and Olivia had found a secure position near the western wall of the facility and were currently waiting for the companions to arrive. Together they had decided that a stealthy approach was the best option, considering that Fin's open consultation had ended in his mysterious disappearance. Olivia shivered in the chilling night air as she remember the ominous image of Fin's squad car being dragged into that warehouse. She knew Fin was capable of protecting himself, more than capable actually. In fact, he had such a Spartan demeanor that one time a child ran away from him screaming when Fin had only offered him a cookie. It had taken Olivia a full ten minutes and the aid of a Doctor Seuss book to calm the poor child after that. Olivia laughed silently at the memory of it, but she was jolted back to the task at hand when a veiled man swiftly appeared to them from nearby.

John Munch nodded his head in greeting and crouched down next to them. Cragen appeared soon after and joined them.

"Elliot, I thought I told you-" Cragen began, but was cut off.

"No time for reprimands, captain," Ellliot said, seizing control of the situation. Olivia looked at him in quiet wonder, it was rare that he disregarded Cragen so blatantly, but Cragen seemed to note the urgency of their situation and let it pass, perhaps also leaving himself a note to deal with Elliot later.

"We don't know what happened to Fin, but we think that storming the factory as stealthily as possible is our best bet at finding him. John, did you bring the supplies?"

"I have it right here," John replied in a Byronic tone. Munch flipped open a thin briefcase that had hitherto been concealed at his side to reveal an assortment of darkly colored gadgets. Government conspiracies being his informal bailiwick, detective Munch knew state of the art espionage technology like the back of his hand.

"Good," Elliot said, looking them over. "Captain, no offense, but I think you will best serve as our base, relying information to us as we go in." Elliot pulled out one of the gadgets. "As we go through the factory we can place these where we see fit, they are cameras that will allow Cragen to monitor what happens around us. There are enough for us each to have three." Elliot distributed the cameras accordingly.

"Now," he said, handing them earpieces. "I think the best plan is to go up and over this wall, and for us each to proceed in three directions to reconnoiter the area. I'll take the grounds and the back warehouses, where we saw Fin's car, Olivia you take the main factory building, and Munch, you take the offices." They each donned their gear and prepared to scale the wall. Cragen sat down behind a bush and pulled out a slender computer through which he could remotely monitor the cameras.

When ready the three detectives vaulted themselves up the wall and landed quietly on the ground on the other side, immediately dividing into their allotted paths.

SVU SVU SVU

Casey Novak sat at her desk, weighed down by the laborious case she was working on. It involved a suit filed by a young lady against a wealthy businessman. The young lady had claimed the man had assaulted her on their first date, a claim the businessman vehemently denied. Whatever the state of the businessman's courting strategies, it seemed his business practices were more than questionable, which was making the case more of a quagmire of papers and records of business deals and financial transactions. But by now Casey was spent on such meticulous lucubration.

Casey dropped a hefty folder that recorded the time logs of the business' employees onto her desk with a thick thud, leaned back and sighed heavily. The large volume upset a nearby stack of papers which slid over, spreading itself out across her desk and disturbing a diminutive pair of bunny figurines that sat there.

_Sometimes I just get so tired of cases like this._

Casey's streaming red hair flowed down past her shoulders, and the lids of her eyes drooped a little. It was 6:30, and she had been at her office nearly 12 hours.

_Well, I've put enough work into this, I guess I'll go see how everyone else is doing and then reserve some time for recuperation._

Casey slid her chair back and heaved another stack of paperwork out of the way to clear a path for her departure and turned for the door. The doorknob rattled as she turned it, and she fumed quietly. It had been weeks since she had asked for that to be fixed. The loose doorknob did not impede the door from being opened, and that was the very problem. The door couldn't be locked. Casey knew that there was hardly anything to be stolen from her office, and hardly anyone in the building who would have the occasion and reason to attempt such a burglary, but it nonetheless made her uneasy.

Not to mention that maintenance in this building is really low rateCasey thought as sidestepped a puddle in the hallway.

The redheaded lawyer entered the main office to discover it empty, which she considered curious, because although it was late Special Victims detectives could be expected to be working late any day of the week. She thought she had even remembered hearing that Olivia had spent the night here working recently, maybe even last night. _Oh well_ Casey shrugged, her wearied mind not wishing to pursue the reasons for the vacated room. She turned to go, but paused momentarily, her eyes lighting upon the grim mocking expression of Peter Iscanyth, his picture still tacked to Olivia's bulletin board.

_Mhm, dreary fellow, I would enjoy haranguing him in court. Speaking of court maybe I'll call Alex. It's been a while since I've seen her, and it might be nice to have some company tonight after all. Besides, she would be able to understand my resentment of that legal suit. It's would be nice to rant for once, and the god damn maintenance!_

Casey turned to take the stairs, the elevator was still out of order after some irate detective had thrown a desk into its operating panel.

SVU SVU SVU

Elliot trod carefully along the flaccid greenery that lay adjacent to the plain outer factory wall. His movements were absorbed by the growing shadows, and he crept slowly up to the first of a series of large storage buildings, the third of which contained Fin's car. Elliot found an old rusted door open at the first of these buildings, and slipped inside.

_Elliot it's been a while since you've had a job like this. Probably not since the Marines, and never in this condition._

Despite Elliot's professed robustness, he was still fatigued and throbbing from the injuries acquired on the previous night, but he pushed them out of his mind and continued onward.

The interior of the warehouse contained towering stacks of crates, boxes, and containers of various sizes, all with various logos stamped on their sides. 'Hurley's Electrics,' 'Denton and Alton Industrial Parts,' 'Carn Motors' the tags read. Elliot continued through the looming isles, encountering nothing of interest. He tapped the miniscule button situated on the pale wire that ran up to his ear. "Nothing here so far, captain, any news from the others?"

"Nothing as yet, Elliot," came Cragen's laconic reply, a reply that required propinquity to be heard. Maybe Cragen was still ticked off by Elliot's stubbornness, but that was nothing new. Elliot continued on to the next warehouse, finding it equally boring, and then to the third, where he expected to at least find Fin's car.

Elliot opened the door warily, "all right entering third warhouse now," he said discretely. Elliot perceived a faint light in the far end of this building. The region near the front, where deliveries were processed, was illuminated and he thought he could hear the sound of voices. The bandaged detective approached surreptiously, peering between a pair of crates at the arrangement on the other of the isle. There sat Fin's squad car, unharmed, by the looks of it, but no Fin. Instead, four men stood observing it. Three of them resembled the three Elliot and Olivia had witnessed pushing the car into the warehouse, but the four appeared differently, and seemed to be commanding the others. He was dressed nicely and had an air of rotten distinction about him.

"Yes, you'll have to find a way to dispose of this," said the well dressed man. "We can't have an NYPD car sitting in here like this."

The others nodded dumbly. They were the kind of brutes whose raison d'état consisted of raw manpower and bestial strength waiting to be ordered around. They reminded Elliot of workhorses.

"Get to work on dismantling it as thoroughly as possible," the well dressed man scoffed to them. "We can have the parts shipped out individually to our connections across the country, and have them take care that no one notices them."

The three other men shook their heads dumbly again and said in thick voices, "yes sir."

The fourth man turned to leave and while walking out said causally, "besides, the police are going to be really interested in us when one of their detectives goes missing after paying us a visit."

This caustic remark evoked a cacophony of laughter from the three thugs, but Elliot stock still and felt shivers run down his spine.

_Shit. Fin._ He thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Olivia crept across the gravel drives that led to the storage warehouses, secretly allowing Munch to get ahead of her so he wouldn't notice when she slipped off. Elliot had instructed Olivia to investigate the offices, but still fresh in Olivia's mind were the eight hours spent on cracking this case. She veered off her intended path and made a beeline for the entrance to the factory grounds.

_It's late, and Morozova should be getting to work soon. Of all people here he knows something, and even if he doesn't we can nail him on those damn fires._

Olivia continued quietly, her feet brushing across the few frail pieces of grass that struggled through the barren soil. She could see the small building in which Morozova should be right now, but just then a persnickety voice pricked her ear.

"Olivia, what's your status?" came Cragen's dusty voice.

"Err, I'm approaching the offices right now," Olivia stammered, not wanting to draw Cragen's disapproval. She would let him judge her actions after they were complete. Granted, that was not the most judicious policy, and it was one that had almost resulted in disaster before.

Olivia's mind flashed back to the time when the captain had ordered her to tail a suspect, and by a coincidence their ADA Casey Novak had joined her in the supposed-to-be routine operation. Really Casey had just wanted a cup of coffee and some fresh air, and Olivia enjoyed the company. The two were sitting in the squad car when Cragen radioed them and told them to back off the target, back off he insisted. Olivia could remember his words vividly, and then, as the radio returned to static Casey's adamant cry "but I wanted a high speed chase!"

Olivia had looked at her doubtfully but then Casey shouted "look!" pointing ahead to the target. The car had just pulled up to a bank and a hooded individual carrying a stuffed duffel bag dove into the car. "Shit!" Casey cried again, "Olivia it's a heist!"

"I see that," Olivia said, throwing the car into gear. "I'm sorry Cragen, I can't back off now." Olivia jerked the car out and sped forward, cutting through traffic, slamming the squad car into the front of the criminal's car just as it was pulling out. Olivia's car continued forward, bashing into the back of another parked car and spinning around into the middle of the road, blocking its traffic along with the target car. Olivia jump out gun raised at the bank robbers, while they pulled guns out themselves. Casey, caught in their crosshairs simply sat in the passenger seat and whimpered pitifully.

It turned out that the hooded 'bankrobber' had actually been Elliot Stabler, hence Cragen's orders to back off. As guns were raised perilously between the cars Cragen's voice cut through the radio static in harsh chastisement, "Olivia I told you to back the fuck off!"

Luckily, Elliot pulled his mask off and put a gun to the back of the driver's head and demanded that they surrender. Being caught in such an inauspicious position, they acquiesced. Olivia was wrought with compunction, and after handcuffing the perps she rushed over to her still terrified lawyer and consoled her softly.

"It's okay honey, it's okay," Olivia soothed, "it's all over now, let's go get you that coffee,"

"Olivia who the hell are you talking to!" blasted Cragen's shrill voice from the radio. "All you're getting is back into my office pronto!"

_Right, that is an experience not worth repeating _thought Olivia as she approached the entrance terminal of the factory yard. _Angry grumpy Cragen no fun. Mansuetude is supposed to be the quality of old men._

"All right, entering the offices now," she said into her receiver, just for safe measure. Olivia reached the check-in building which was bordered by two long retractable gates. She pressed her back to its wall, listening intently to the interior.

_Nothing. Well, only one more thing to try._

Olivia spun around and burst inside it, sweeping her gun around in a circle.

_Still nothing, damn. I may as well look around while I'm here._

Olivia glanced around. A monitor of security cameras, one displaying Munch's creeping form. A tabletop area spread with folders and logs, and a waste bin over laden with fast food wrappers. Not much here Olivia thought.

"Um, may I help you?" an uncertain voice started.

Olivia rounded, shocked, and her right arm flew up instinctively in a potent hook, catching the unsuspecting man right in the face and knocking him backwards. Olivia eyed him for a moment, and against all odds decided that the dimwit she had just clocked was indeed Peter Iscanyth, or Igor Morozova as he was really called.

Olivia leapt outside and grabbed the man's shirt slamming him against the wall of the building. "Well hello, Igor," she said sinisterly, "would you like to tell me where our friend Fin is?"

"Er, who?" he said in confusion, his hands trembling.

"Talk now or talk later, it's your choice."

"I honestly don't, wait, you're, you're one of the detectives I talked to aren't you?"

"Yes I am, and another one of us detectives has been missing for a few hours, last seen here. What can you tell me about that?"

"I really don't know! I've only just arrived, my shift starts at eight!"

Olivia decided against further questioning. Her free arm flew up and sent the man's body limp.

SVU SVU SVU

Casey Novak left the prescient briskly, breathing a little heavily after descending the five flights of stairs to the ground floor. She sported an economical bag containing the most vital papers for her cases, and wore a black skirt and a light blue blouse.

The trim lawyer hailed a cab and directed it to 10th Street where she had agreed to meet Alex Cabot for drinks at a bar they visited frequently.

"You know, I'll give you my number if you need a ride home too," the cab driver said seductively as Casey paid him.

"No thanks, I'm meeting," she hesitated, "a date." What was the risk of a little lie, she thought. Besides she had to start getting creative with her excuses, she was hit on a lot due to her stunning looks.

"Hey Alex," she said moments later, entering the bar.

"Casey, it's been so long!" Alex exclaimed, smiling widely in greeting. The alibi that she was meeting a date was truly a lie, but now that Casey considered it Alex was pretty good looking, she was sure that she was the object of no more than a few other hungry and searching eyes. But no, what was she thinking, it was just a thought, just an innocent thought. But to tell the truth, Casey had thought the same thing the last time she had seen Alex. In fact, these thoughts had been secretly creeping in upon her and had become more noticeable in the last few years. Casey shook her head and took a gulp of her foaming beer.

"Yeah, I'm knee deep in a pretty rotten case right now actually," she said, trying to take her mind off such things.

"Oh yeah? What is it this time, sex slavery? Child trafficking? Serial rapist?"

No, nothing egregious like that," Casey said chuckling, "rotten as in corrupt. Some highfalutin business tycoon with backdoor business deals. He even seems to smell of mischief. If I gave you a lineup and said point me out the unscrupulous sycophant you would nail him right away."

"Oh, one like that huh? An infinite burden to prosecute and little glory to convict. But at least the newspapers get to play the shame game afterwards, that also really seals the deal."

"Like hell, they're dirty bastards too. The funny thing is, the whole thing started with some girl accusing the businessman of abuse, probably just to win some of his money, but in her defense I came across some loose ends in the man's pocketbook. One thing led to another and here I am, working late again." Casey sighed, setting her glass down lugubriously.

"Oh yes, I've had plenty of those. At least the majority of your cases are still full of racy details, most of mine are more like that awful one you have now. Mounds and mounds of papers." Alex raised her hands in mocking despair, and what fine hands they were, Casey thought. Those thin fingers, and those slender, gracile arms, and her lean torso and golden hair. Er, stop it! Casey commanded herself again.

She had never had very much time to devote to a romantic life, and therefore had not devoted much thought to it. College had been a four year barrage of work and more work, and law school was just a sinister aggravation of that routine, if that was possible. Casey had never had time to devote to boys, being perpetually drowned in stacks of legal papers. But now Casey wondered if the real reason was rather that she was not that attracted to men after all…

"Yes, not to mention I miss the indecency of SVU criminals," Alex said looking back at Casey. "They were always so much more fun. Even my own clients would sometimes blatantly ask to sleep with me, now its just all a sly veneer plastered on to try to impress me. Just a circus of sybarite charlatans. It's not even entertaining."

"You're not saying that you actually miss being hit on by rapists and murderers, ADA Cabot?" Casey teased, but immediately regretted it, after noting the cause of her wanting to do so.

"Hell, you see how many 'you know how much this watch cost me' or 'that Mercedes over there, yeah, that's mine,' or 'let me show you how a real businessman treats a woman' and tell me what you think."

Casey remembered the crude remarks of the unshaven cab driver and muttered her agreement. Maybe that was it, men just had gutter minds and gutter desires. She had never really met any that seemed even potentially able to actually care about a women. Maybe she was just spent on their insensitivity. Yet she never wanted to caress a man's hair as much as she wanted to caress Alex's right- _Casey stop it!_

"I'm beginning to think all men are like that," Casey said absentmindedly in distraction.

"Beginning to think?" Alex questioned dubiously. "Hell, I have yet to meet one man who isn't!"

By now the two were at least a little tipsy and Alex nodded slyly at Casey, saying "watch this." Alex turned from the window bar stool at which they had been seated and approached a nearby table, where three guys were sitting and talking raucously, a pitcher of beer emptied between them. Casey's eyes followed the lawyer's flowing body, her swishing hips and thin legs, her… "hey fellows!" came Alex's voice. Casey blinked, surprised out of her romantic reverie.

"Tell you what, if you guys honestly tell me what you think of me right now, I might just let you take me home tonight- but only one of you, only the one I think is the most honest! Now, let's hear it, tell me what you're thinking about me right now!"

The men's mouths hung slack jawed briefly but then one burst out, "hell I'd sleep with you right now lady, where's your house?"

The responses of the others were of a similarly base nature, and Alex just smiled reprovingly at them saying, "thanks, point proved." She turned away from their catcalls and rejected faces and rejoined Casey.

"See what I mean, dear?"

"Yes, I see your point," Casey said, although a very different point had been made in her mind. She was attracted to Alex Cabot. And there was no more denying it.

Alex turned and looked out the window wistfully, unaware the Casey was still eyeing her body out of the corner of her vision. Alex's gaze trailed after the disappearing cars that raced down the open air street, a disheartened gaze of a disenchanted romantic. However her frustration was not due to the insensitive character of modern men, modern men she was hardly interested in anyways, but rather to the actual nature of her sexual dispositions, and their seemingly hopeless nature. Or at least, highly impractical nature.

SVU SVU SVU

Fin's eyes opened groggily, his head hanging loosely across his chest. He blinked several times trying to regain his sense of reality, for the moment completely unaware of where he was or what he was doing there. Soon the acute sensation produced by his bound limbs informed him that he was being held hostage. He grunted in frustration, realizing that he could hardly move.

The room he was in was dark, but faintly illuminated. It was a large room, it seemed, or perhaps the word room did not do it justice. It was more akin to the interior of a warehouse, or some vast, open space. Fin was bound to a chair next to large crates and some heavy metal machinery. His mouth was gagged and he could now feel dried blood caked to the side of his head. He searched his mind for the recollection of how he had ended up here.

Yes that was it, the metalworks plant. He had been investigating it and had found the superintendent to be a spineless coward and decided to take things into his own hands. Fin remembered rounding the side of the building and spying a group of men unloading crates from a freight truck, crates just like the one in front of him actually. Fin remembered entering the building where there were being deposited from a side entrance and watching their delivery carefully. He had descried the name _Imam Chemical Corp_ on the crates, and the men were obviously being secretive about the placement of the boxes. This was enough to arouse his suspicions fully, but his memories ended just as he pulled his phone out to call his partner.

_I must have been bludgeoned then. Well hell, at least they know where I am, assuming I still am at the metal factory._

Just then Fin heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and momentarily his face was assaulted with a glaring light. After his eyes adjusted he managed to distinguish the face of the spiteful superintendent, although no longer were its creases etched with pusillanimity and fear. He had a menacing and bitter expression, an expression that announced that now he was in control. But Fin, who scared children, was not to be intimidated by some white collar bully. He stared belligerently back at his adversary, his eyes flaming.

"Haha," the man chuckled. "A fierce look, but it won't do you much good. You should spend the last moments of your life smiling, instead of being so down."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Detective John Munch had ascended the rickety metal scaffolding bracing on one of the walls to the main factory building, and was now peering through one of its opaque windows in the last rays of the sunset. The dirty window was almost impossible to see through but it had been cracked in one corner and Munch was able to make out the dim outline of a railing inside the building. Good, he thought, there seemed to be an inner deck to mirror the one he was standing on. Munch continued down the ledge, fortunately finding a window that had been completely shattered, probably by some vandal and never repaired. Munch crept in quietly.

"Cragen I'm inside, I'm going to set up a camera on the ceiling so you can have a clear view of the whole building," Munch said into his mouthpiece.

"Copy that," came Cragen's reply.

Munch covertly extended himself up above the railing and stuck a camera near the top base of a support pole, and then crouched down again to survey the area. Before Munch's eyes, spread out across the floor of the factory, was a very unexpected sight. Munch froze in his place, astounded that he had been able to make it this far without being detected. Moving as imperceptibly as possible he raised his right hand to his neck and clicked a button.

"Cragen," he whispered, "you may want to call for backup."

SVU SVU SVU

Elliot Stabler stood up hazardously on the top of a fifteen foot high tower of crates. He loomed up above the three ruffians who were inexpertly trying to disassemble Fin's car. They had only managed to take the hood off and extract a few of its innards. Elliot arranged his hands behind a large but loose box and gave a warlike cry.

"HAAHHHH!" he bellowed. With a shove the box came tumbling off its precipice and plummeted down upon the unsuspecting thugs who cried out in alarm. The box slammed into Fin's car, obliterating the windshield and bursting open at the same time. A plethora of stuffed animals exploded into the air. That's just wrong thought Elliot, watching as the thugs scrambled about bewildered, but not beaten.

_Well, time for plan B._

With another warlike cry Elliot leapt off the supply stack in a very ungraceful maneuver and came crashing down among his adversaries. He smote one of the men with a stuffed gorilla he had picked up in his landing, and then turned like a berserker against the remaining two, pinning one of them against the stack of crates he had just leapt from.

"Listen, pal, you're gonna tell me where our partner is, or else you're answering to me!" The thug trembled against Elliot's threat, but he was soon freed as his comrade pummeled Elliot in the side with another box.

"Oh no you don't!" Elliot raged from a few feet away. He picked up the same crate that had been hurled at him and sent it flying above the man's hand and colliding with another precariously stacked sundry of boxes, which came toppling down to the unfortunate thug's demise.

"That's right!" Elliot shouted in jubilation. He could barely feel his injuries anymore, but perceived vividly an irritating hounding in his ears from Cragen, wanting to know what the hell had happened. He paused for a moment to update Cragen, the other troglodytes were too embroiled in their own turmoil to confront him again for a moment. "Sorry Cragen, just dispatching a few thugs, and hey before you get on to me it's not as bad as that time Olivia ruined that undercover bank job by crashing into us just as we were making our getaway!"

"Hey! Who the hell are you talking to?" jeered one of Elliot's enemies, his brutish face leering from afar.

"Yeah who are you speaking to?" spat the other.

"You'll get the pain for this!" came the muffled voice of the third, who was still smothered in boxes.

"The pain! Yeah, the pain!" said the other two. "You're going to pay for busting in on us like this! Say, who the hell are you anyway? And who were you talking to?" The thugs rapped their fists together and gnawed their teeth. Fortunately, Elliot had too much sangfoid to let these puerile taunts affect him.

"It's time to put an end to you pleonastic losers!" shouted Elliot as he sprang forward.

His sentence set the two standing thugs into a state of confusion over what Elliot meant, and as they stood trying to understand it Elliot sent one of them flying back with a move he had learned while playing football and then swept the legs out from the other, pinning him to the ground with his knee.

"God, I _love_ my job," Elliot said smugly in victory. "_Now_," he said, leaning down too close to the thug's ears, "where the hell is our partner?"

"Man I don't know none of that shit," the man whimpered, "we're just hear to wreck this car!"

"Yeah and you know whose car that is? Our partners! Now, speak!" Elliot commanded, digging his knee painfully into the man's back.

"Err, hell, I don't know, but if I had to hide a hostage around here it would probably be in that main building, the large one in the center."

"Thanks," Elliot said, clocking the thug in the back of the head. "All right, Cragen, it looks like I'm heading for the main building now." Elliot departed from the warehouse but heard no reply from Cragen. "Cragen?" he questioned again, but still nothing.

_Hm, that's strange. I should stick to our mission though, and worry about Cragen later. The old man probably fell asleep, poor guy._

Elliot didn't know it but Detective John Munch was also wondering why Cragen was not responding. Munch had been repeatedly trying to contact him for the last few minutes, not knowing what else to do in the meantime, but now he was convinced that Cragen, or at least their technology, had become compromised in some way.

"Damn it," he muttered silently, staring down again at the spectacle before him in fear and awe. Across the floor of the factory building lay a host of black clad figures, all of fastidious fitness. Munch did not want to say it, but they looked like ninjas. The phalanx was assembled in a tight grid, all of the ninjas standing at alert, as if waiting for a leader. The factory machinery had been crowded against the walls of the facility, a task that must have taken some time which meant that this ninja operation was no small matter, although that much could be ascertained simply by looking at the frightening men.

Munch heard a sound and his eyes shot up abruptly. A ninja had materialized seemingly out of thin air and had landed in front of the host, vaulting up onto a platform to address them all. Munch maintained his position in quiet stillness.

"You have all been gathered here tonight!" came the captain's imperious voice, in thick English. "You have travelled many paths to get here, but you all come from the same place, and with the same purpose! You know what our mission is tonight, we are going to commandeer a U.S. Military aircraft carrier. It's departure is scheduled for one hour! All of you, remember the training you received at Madame Ko's Academy, and don't forget the lessons you learned there!"

The ninjas stood austerely alert during this speech, but now they were joined by two other men, or, more properly, by one other man dragging a second. The first man was the superintendent, and the other was Elliot Stabler. Munch gasped. Elliot seemed to be unconscious. There was no possibility of this turning out to their advantage now.

"Oh, we have a guest do we?" entreated the ninja captain.

"Yes, Neji, we do," confirmed the superintendent, who had grown to look even more malicious. "We can dispose of him along with our other intruder."

Munch's eye widened in fear. _Fin, and now Elliot too, and no news from Cragen. This IS NOT looking good. D'arvit._


End file.
